Rhea Sweet – Doing the Wrong Thing

She pushed through the curtain, lace brushing her thighs as she moved down the hallway. There he stood, silhouetted, rigid, eyes devouring her sheer lace negligee and stockings. She’d felt his stare for weeks. At dinner, by the pool, everywhere. At first, she’d there was confusion… then liquid heat pooled low when she realized he wasn’t just looking. He was starving, desperate to rip this flimsy black fabric off. Bury his face between her thighs, to make her gush right onto his tongue. She’d backed away each time, biting her lip. Resist. You have to. But now? Alone? With his gaze searing her nipples into hard peaks under the lace? Resistance evaporated. A whimper tore from her throat as his hands hooked her straps, yanking them down. Her tits spilled free, heavy and eager. Filling his palms as he squeezed, thumbs grinding circles on her stiff buds before his mouth closed over one. His other hand slid down her belly, fingers plunging past damp lace into her soaked cunt. “Yes!” she gasped, hips jerking as two thick fingers fucked deep, crooking against her spot. She came instantly. Back arching, pussy clamping and gushing slick down his wrist. Mine, the hunger in his eyes screamed. On all fours, she took his cock into her mouth. Lips stretched tight as she bobbed, spit dripping, tits swaying with every suck. He fisted her hair, groaning. Fighting back cumming “Not… your face… I have other plans” before flipping her over. She rode him wildly, nails on his chest, “I want it! Fill ME” till his cum flooded her womb. Collapsing together, gasping. They lay next to each other knowing that was the best orgasm she’s ever had. Regardless if she’s Doing The Wrong Thing…